


Stardust

by pearlydewdrop



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Family Loss, Grief/Mourning, Heartache, Parenthood, Song: Boats and Birds (Gregory and the Hawk)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27505936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlydewdrop/pseuds/pearlydewdrop
Summary: But you can skyrocket away from me and never come back if you find another galaxy, far from here with more room to fly. Just leave me your stardust to remember you by.Sybil/Tom. Mary/Matthew. Spoilers for Season 3
Relationships: George Crawley & Mary Crawley, Mary Crawley/Matthew Crawley, Sybbie Branson & Tom Branson, Tom Branson/Sybil Crawley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

...

_If you'll be my star_   
_I'll be your sky_   
_You can hide underneath me and come out at night_   
_When I turn jet black_   
_And you show off your light_   
_I live to let you shine_   
_I live to let you shine_

_~Gregory and the Hawk, Boats and Birds._

...

In his dreams, Tom catches glimpses of her. Sybil's gaze is totally _radiant_.

Even then, she is so full of _life_ , bright edges and playful smiles-like heaven and earth collided in a kaleidoscope of colour. Tom catches her gaze over the yellowed and curling pages of Marx and Connolly...the politics that brought them together. He can feel Sybil's hope, her fire and her optimism.

_Even in the darkness_...

It radiated from her naturally. Effortlessly. She was the brightest star in the sky. Even then, Tom could still see the light bursting from Sybil.

_The light he'd lived for._

He follows Sybil through the gallery and down the grand staircase, the whispy train of her turquoise evening gown vanishing around corners before Tom can even begin to catch up.

She was always there, several steps ahead of him, just out of reach.

Until she wasn't...

It happens quickly, before Tom can say or do anything. Sybil disappears into the night, melting into the heavens. His dearest darling wife; _gone_.

When he awakes, the pitch black emptiness of his and Sybil's bedroom is far too much for him.

Tom feels the weight of her absence like an empty gaping hollow at the centre of his chest. The photograph of Sybil beside the bed, her hairbrush and jewellery still piled neatly on the dresser...it's all too much.

He never really believed in heartbreak before now. Well, he did...but not as a real ailment one could suffer from. _Heartbreak_...Nothing else could explain the dull ache that Tom carried with him wherever he went.

Before he knows it, his feet have carried him to the nursery. To Sybbie.

Tom's eyes fall upon the sleeping infant. His sweetest sweetest daughter.

Bundled up in her crib and snoring softly, Sybbie _twinkles like stardust_ scattered across the night sky.

She reminds him of her mother.

...  
 _But you can skyrocket away from me_  
 _And never come back if you find another galaxy_  
 _Far from here with more room to fly_  
 _Just leave me your stardust to remember you by_

_~Gregory and the Hawk, Boats and Birds_

...


	2. Chapter 2

...

_If you'll be my boat_   
_I'll be your sea_   
_A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity_   
_Ebbing and flowing_   
_And pushed by a breeze_   
_I live to make you free_

...

Time and time again, Mary had been told that your loved ones never truly leave you.

But Matthew...Matthew was gone. Disappeared _across the horizon_ , forever out of reach and out of sight to her.

She was convinced of it.

Mary half wishes she could still feel his presence around her, anything to prove that the years they'd spent together were more than just a figment of her imagination, a hazy fever dream of happier days after the Great War had ended.

When she walks the grounds of Downton, there are moments when she almost hears Matthew's laugh. The footsteps of Nanny and the wheels of George's pram scrape against the gravel several feet ahead of her. An unwelcome _anchor_ to reality.

Mary wishes she could bear to look directly at her son.

The boy, everyone had told her, was the very picture of his father and only growing more and more like him with every day that passes.

It was just too painful.

It took some time but the morning chill slowly began to ebb and the murkiness of the winter's dawn tentatively brightened to the depths of pure blue.

The colour reminded Mary of snarky banter over dining room tables, curious searching looks exchanged across drawing rooms and quiet intimate moments spent roaming the grounds and planning for a future they would never have.

The piercing insistent whines of little George interrupt her thoughts.

They tug Mary back to the present with an urgent force.

She watches wordlessly _powerlessly_ as Nanny rushes to tend to the child.

For a moment, Mary feels a totally unexpected surge of warmth rush through her. It reminds her of summer days on the estate and the calming cadences of her husband's voice.

Surprising even herself, Mary picks up her pace, _pushed by the breeze_ , and joins with her son and Nanny at the end of the drive.

After all, she never liked to be predicable...even to herself.

"I'll do that."

...

_But you can set sail to the west if you want to_   
_And pass the horizon 'till I can't even see you_   
_Far from here where the beaches are wide_   
_Just leave me your wake to remember you by_

...


End file.
